What Cannot Be Replaced
by weepingangel9578
Summary: They'd won. They'd vanquished the evils of Mordor, he should be happy, right? But how can the king be happy, when all he can think about are the lives that had been so cruelly destroyed? Why should he be happy sitting here, in rich clothes, heart still beating, when someone's child lay not two feet away? Why should he be happy, sitting here, as he holds the hand of a dying friend?


**Okay so this story literally popped into my mind at 10:39 this evening, and I just felt a compulsion to type it up. It came to me as I was listening to the songs "To Build a Home" by The Cinematic Orchestra, "Off I Go" by Greg Laswell, and "Trouble" by Coldplay. It is just a random one-shot that just happened, and I don't really know where it came from…I hope you like it though…**

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The stench of blood and decay filled the air surrounding what was once the black gates of Mordor. Bodies upon bodies of orcs and men lined the dry and barren ground, leaving mountains of death for the few remaining soldiers to climb through. All of their searching eyes hoping with every ounce of their being that they wouldn't see the face of someone they love stained with red. Keening wails of grief were deafening as more brothers, fathers, and sons were uncovered in the grisly masses. It was a heart, and gut-wrenching sight for the soon to be king of Gondor.

They had won. They had vanquished the evils of Mordor, they should be celebrating, right? This battle signified a hard won victory…yet all the man could think about were the lives that had been so cruelly ripped apart, and all together ended. For God's sake, here he was, in his rich clothing, his heart beating strong, breath still filling his lungs, while not more than two feet away lay someone's child. _How is this fair?_

Aragorn, son of Arathorn took a centering breath and pressed a battle-scarred hand to his face. In a rush of air, he let it go and his shoulders slumped forward in exhaustion. _It was over. This seemingly endless war was blessedly over, but again, at what cost? _The man raised his weary eyes to once again scan the battle field, and he couldn't help the small upward twitch of his lips when he recognized several of the faces wandering about the area.

The two hobbits, who had created a new definition of the word bravery, clung to each other a distance away, each one sobbing in relief that the other still stood. Then there was the new king of Rohan, who was comforting a grieving soldier, and friend, over the loss of a comrade. Close to Éomer sat the ever sturdy Gimli. The dwarf was currently sitting atop one of the orc corpses, staring up at the sky dreamily, his axe and helmet forgotten on the ground to his left.

The ranger continued scanning the area and smiled when he saw the ever familiar fletching of gold and green imbedded in gnarled flesh. He had grown up seeing those fletchings, be they notched in a hand-crafted bow ready to kill, or on a work table as Legolas meticulously inspected his supply of arrows. Yet, it only took a moment for the smile of old memories to turn into a frown as sour as the black blood staining the earth, for next to the groupings of arrows Aragorn had been admiring lay a curtain of blonde hair, its host trapped under several dead beasts.

Never before had the man felt his legs move as quickly as they did in that moment.

He sprinted over to the fallen elf, eyes wide and flooded with panic. His breathing sped up to the point of near hyperventilation, and the ranger honestly believed that his heart would break out of his chest it was beating so rapidly. When he reached the elf after what seemed like hours, he hefted the orc bodies from his friend with a mighty cry tinged with the monster unadulterated fear, and said monster building in the pit of his stomach wasn't disappointed.

The beautiful and graceful woodland prince lay flat on his back, limbs and golden hair splayed out around him, gasping for precious air through the thick bubbles of blood gathering on his lips. His once shining blue eyes stared blankly up at the clearing sky, pain and fear overriding the joy that they normally held. Legolas' pale fingers were occasionally twitching at his sides, but it seemed that it was just a reflex from pain, for the elf could barely move as the icy approach of death seeped into his veins. The beautiful creature didn't even twitch as Aragorn crashed to his knees beside him.

The man blindly grabbed for one of Legolas' hands, squeezing the appendage tightly once it was found. Aragorn then brought the pale and bloodied hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the palm, before once again wrapping it in his much warmer counterparts.

When the man finally spoke, the tears he had been trying to hold back flooded his voice, and it ended up breaking almost immediately.

"Oh God Legolas! Oh God!"

The pitiful sob reached through the fog of pain and death clouding the prince's mind, and he stiffly turned his head towards the man. Almost instantly a weak smile found its way onto Legolas' lips, and his blue eyes cleared a little in recognition.

"Estel…you're okay. I was worried about you. I lost sight of you about halfway through the fight."

The elf's voice was weak, but the genuine concern for the ranger's safety remained thoroughly ingrained in the words. However, Aragorn could only shake his head at them.

"Don't you dare worry about me right now! I am the one who is going to worry, and I am going to fix you. Do you understand me Legolas? You are not going to die!"

The prince's smile turned sad and sympathetic as a broken sigh left his lips.

"Oh Estel…unfortunately, I do not think that even you could fix me as of now."

The ranger violently shook his head and tightened his grasp on Legolas' hand.

"No! I am not going to lose you! Not today, not tomorrow, not ever! So shut up and let me look at your wounds."

Not having the strength to argue, the elf settled for silently watching as the man began to inspect where the green material of his tunic was rapidly being stained a deep red. The fabric now stuck to his over-sensitized skin, so the elf gave a hiss of pain when the man tried to remove it. Aragorn shot him an apologetic look, but continued going until the tunic was pulled up and over the wounds. It was not a pretty sight.

The ranger felt his stomach lurch uneasily as he was fully exposed to the two gaping stab wounds to the prince's abdomen. Both were deep, one so much so that the man could see one of Legolas' ribs through the gore. Blood was everywhere, and it seemed to be leaking from the elf's body in a never ending stream.

Judging by the jagged edges of the wound, and the extremely significant damage, Aragorn came to the conclusion that whatever weapon had made these wounds was ripped from the lithe body none too gently. He winced as he imagined the pain that must have come along with that manner of extrication. The man released a shaky breath and hovered his hands over the wounds, completely overwhelmed with the situation.

"Oh God! I-I can fix this I just…um…I just need to…I can fix this, you aren't going to die…I can fix this!"

The man was becoming frantic as his eyes darted wildly over the injured elf's body. When the man started sobbing in despair and speaking nonsense under his breath, Legolas gave a small squeeze to his hand, but Aragorn ignored him. The man's body continued to heave with silent sobs, tears continually sliding down his dirtied cheeks.

"Estel, look at me."

The man ignored the elf and continued muttering to himself in a crazed state of grief. The elf huffed gently and spoke as firmly as possible

"I mean it Estel."

Aragorn finally quieted down and obeyed, making eye contact with the fading elf. Legolas smiled at his longtime friend before soothing him with his voice.

"There we go...I am dying Estel, and there is nothing more either of us can do to stop it. I knew from the moment that I received these wounds, I wasn't going to return to the white city, and at first I was terrified by that, but not for the reasons you might think. I do not fear death itself, but I feared never knowing whether or not _you _had returned. But now you are here, and I do not think that you can understand how happy it makes me to know that you survived, you are safe, and you are going to live a long a joyful life. Now I will not say that you shouldn't grieve over the losses we have suffered, never would I tell you to hold what you feel inside you, but I will say this. Do not let your grief get in the way of your joy."

Legolas gave a weak cough and with much effort, brought a shaking hand to cup Aragorn's face.

"I have lived a long and happy life Estel. Are there things that I am sad I will never see? Of course! But there will always be one more thing to do, one more place to see, and even one with an immortal soul does not have enough time to finish them all. I leave this earth with acceptance and peace in my heart, but only because I know that I leave this world with you going forward to live your life to the fullest that you can. Do not take that comfort away from me Estel. You must go forward after this, for me. Do whatever you wish! Marry the one you love, have a whole gaggle of children who will annoy you at every chance they get, yet you will love them anyway, and most importantly, don't lose the lust for life that I was able to see in you from the moment we first meet, that fateful day in Rivendell."

Legolas coughed again, more forcefully this time, and he could feel the steady stream of red at the corner of his mouth increasing tenfold. The elf stilled for a moment as numbness washed over him, signaling that his time here was done. He turned back to the man and let his hand drop, the effort of holding it up too overwhelming.

"I love you Estel, and I always will, don't you dare forget that alright?"

The man shook his head as fresh tears spilled down his face.

"Please don't go Legolas. I still need you. I don't know how I am going to go on without you. I don't know the first thing about being king! Please mellon-nin!" (my friend)

Legolas scoffed with barely audible volume, and for a moment, the elf's signature mirth danced though his eyes.

"That is a lie and you know it. You are going to be the greatest king Gondor has ever had. You will go down in the tales of old, and some will be so great that they will travel to the Valar themselves, which means that I will get to hear them myself."

The elf gave the man one more look over before turning his gaze back to the sky. He stared ahead for a moment and his smile widened as much as he was able.

"I can see it Estel. White shores and endless fields of green…it is even more beautiful than I could have imagined. I am going to see the ones that love again Estel, and who knows, I might even meet your parents. Wouldn't that be strange?"

Legolas gave one more mirthful laugh before his chest lowered for the final time and his eyes glazed over with nothingness. His body went completely still in death, his skin cooling down instantly. All of this happened in less than ten seconds, but to the ranger, it felt as though Legolas' last seconds spanned for eternities.

The world slowed down, before all together stopping in the man's mind as he regarded the once vibrant blue eyes, now dull, the strong and seemingly unbreakable body, now a hollow and pale shell, and the gentle smile that at one point brought so much joy to the lives of others, now only a reminder that said smile was the wood-elf's final one.

Aragorn's mind went momentarily blank, and all feeling fled from his body, both parts of him unable to function under the stress and grief. So, the king of men could do nothing but simply sit there, holding the unmoving hand of the elf that had been his friend and brother for as long as he could remember. His friend and brother who would never again exist in this world.

Because Legolas was dead.

Those few words barreled into the man with the force of a fully grown warg, and suddenly, all feeling rushed back into the man.

He grabbed for Legolas' body and crushed the limp form against his chest, burying his face into the silky tresses and sobbing. His shoulders heaved and shook long after his tears stopped flowing, he simply couldn't calm himself down. How could he just go on? Legolas had always been by his side! The blonde archer had been one of the very few people in his life that was always there. The elf had been everything for him, a friend, a brother, a punching bag, everything! That was why his hands continued to grip the elf in a vice even as his other companions found him, wailing out in grief. That was why his heart continued to shatter, never to be completely whole again, as he made his way back to the glorious white city, the limp elf cradled in his arms...

They had won. They had vanquished the evils of Mordor, but there would be no celebration in the king's halls tonight. Ale and stories wouldn't be shared and food wouldn't be devoured with the hunger born of endless fighting. Because yes, they had won. Yes, they had vanquished the evils of Mordor. It was over. The seemingly endless war was finally over, but in their victory, the most valuable of things had been lost.

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**Please review guys! You know I love to hear from you, so please leave your thoughts! Hope you liked the random thought that just came to my mind!**

**By the way, I don't know if any of y'all watch Grey's Anatomy (it is kind of my guilty pleasure!) but the moment when Aragorn says "Oh God Legolas! Oh God!" I had a total flashback moment to when Meredith finds out that George is the guy who got dragged by a bus, and then I just kept imagining Aragorn saying that with Meredith's voice…sorry that was totally random, but I just felt the need to say it, because it is kind of occupying my mind right now…**


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